


Mother Knows Best

by orphan_account



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Ableism, Agni Kai (Avatar), Angst, Anorexia, Child Abuse, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Eating Disorders, Gen, Homelessness, Hurt Zuko (Avatar), Insecurity, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Ozai (Avatar) is an Asshole, Poverty, Public Humiliation, Zuko (Avatar) Angst, Zuko (Avatar) Needs a Hug, Zuko (Avatar)-centric, Zuko's Scar (Avatar), if begging for mercy in front of a crowd counts, internalized ableism, its all accidental tho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:48:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25566151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: 5 times Ursa's words of comfort only hurt and the 1 time Zuko learned that the past is not the present.(Basically Zuko just being insecure and angsty for six chapters, also implied eating disorders so if that triggers you, tread lightly)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 104





	1. Punishment

He was on his knees. The cold floor made them ache as he stretched his arms out and groveled, begging for forgiveness. Begging for mercy from his own father. Begging for his life. He knew he deserved whatever punishment he was given, but his mother’s voice still rang in his ears, a distant memory part of him yearned for, and part of him despised. 

_ Zuko sniffled, curled up in a ball in his room with an angry burn enveloping his wrist. He tried to keep his cries quiet. Father would be angrier. He knew from experience. “Crying’s childish,” he whispered to himself through choked sobs. The seven-year-old curled in on himself as he repeated it like a mantra in an attempt to stop the tear tracks down his cheeks from growing. It didn’t help much. _

_ The door swung open. Zuko’s eyes widened as he fell off of his bed in a panic and shielded his face, not only to protect it, but to hide it. The burns on his wrists ached with the sudden movement. “I’m sorry, I’m- I’m sorry for crying, I’m- I’ll do better, I know it’s childish but please-” he begged, speaking so quickly it was hard to decipher. “Zuko, dear, it’s me,” Ursa said, quietly closing the door. _

_ Zuko lowered his arms. They still covered his chest, but his face was in full view, red rings around his tear-stained eyes. “...Zuko, what-” Ursa swallowed. “What happened to your arms?” she asked, running over to him. She kneeled in front of him and motioned for him to give her them. Slowly, he brought them to her, shaking in fear. _

_ Ursa gripped Zuko’s hand and examined the burns, the hand-shape all too clear to miss. She looked up at him, but he wouldn’t meet her in the eyes. “Zuko, who did this?” she asked, letting go of his hands. Zuko met her eyes and gulped. “...Father, but I-” he waved his hands in a defensive motion, the burns aching as they shook around. “-I deserved it, it was my fault, I’m sorry,”  _

_ “Zuko, listen to me,” Ursa said, enveloping him into a hug. “No one will ever hurt you again,” she said fiercely. She closed her eyes. “Mama’s gonna protect you. You don’t deserve that.” _

As he shook on the ground, begging, he tightened his posture. What a lie that was. He deserved all of this, and he knew it. Mother wasn’t here to protect him anymore. He looked up as his father’s hand moved to his face, and he prayed it was to comfort him.

Then, his father set it on fire.


	2. Ugly

Zuko stood, arms shaking, in front of the mirror on the ship. His hands were perched on the table before it, heart beating overwhelmingly quick as it rocked with the movement of the water beneath. Just one quick peek, he told himself. He closed his eyes and swallowed. He shook more as he counted down in his mind. He got to zero, and hesitated, counting again. He could do this. Just one quick look at scarred skin after the bandages had finally come off. That’s all it is. 

He whipped his head up and pried his eyes open, immediately gagging at the sight. The burn looked horrible, his eye nearly forced shut from thickened skin. At parts it was sunken in, especially in his blackened and charred eye socket, but in others it was puffy and swollen. It made him sick to look at, especially the areas with vein-like structures popping out.

As he gazed into the eye, he noticed how hard it was to see out of it. Everything looked blurred and darkened. He closed one eye and was greeted with an almost empty world. His ear felt fuzzy, too, as if he had gotten water in it. It sounded the same. He hated it, god damnit, he was supposed to be strong, so he simply opened it again as he examined the eye once more.

The sclera, once white, had gone a pinkish color, and his iris was covered in a cataract, his pure, golden-colored eye linking him to his family gone. At least there was one left. His pupil, though there, seemed… duller, almost. As if it had been stripped of life. He shuddered, and decided to feel the scar.

As he reached a hand to it, there was a tight jolt of pain when it made contact, but as he felt around he noticed how numb it felt. Almost all feeling was gone, nerve endings burned off. He could barely feel the pressure of his hand. He flinched, taking it off as a new memory resurfaced. 

_ Zuko’s mother entered the room where he sat, a sad expression on his face. Noticing him, she walked over, concerned, kneeling by him. He moved away. Ursa put her head down, before looking up at him again. “What’s wrong, Zuko?” she asked, holding her hand out. _

_ “I don’t wanna talk about it,” Zuko responded, inching further away from Ursa. She put her hand down and sat next to her son. “It’s okay, I’m your mother, Zuko. I just want to help,” she said. Zuko only looked to the ground. _

_ Sniffling, he raised his head. “Father says I’m lucky to even be born,” he cried out. “Is it true, Mama? Am I lucky to be born?” he asked, pounding his fists on the ground and looking to his mother for an answer. Ursa was taken aback, but she scooped him straight into a hug anyways. _

_ Zuko wrapped his arms around Ursa’s shoulders as she rocked him slowly, running her fingers through his tight hair. “No, Zuko, no. I’m lucky you were born,” she said pulling him away to look him in his face. “Don’t you ever forget that. You are beautiful, Zuko.” _

He scoffed. Yeah, right. He had been branded a traitor’s mark. He felt dirty. He was ugly, inside and out, and his father made sure it was known everywhere.


	3. Who I Am

He was on the ground. This guy was a solid bender and a great fighter, how was he supposed to beat him with only two swords? As he got lost in his head, demanding himself to think, five words crossed his mind and he thought of a distant memory. 

_ Ursa came into his room late at night. He was already shaken up by the looming threat of death, but her alarmed face did it for him as he got up groggily. “I have to go,” she explained urgently. Before Zuko could process anything, she wrapped him into a hug.  _

_ “Zuko, remember this,” she frantically said, gripping his shoulders. “No matter what happens, no matter how things change, never forget who you are.” She put her hood on and turned around. _

_ Then, she was gone. _

Zuko gripped his swords tighter as he pushed himself up to send a kick of fire towards the officer. He flinched back as Zuko swung his swords, fire licking hungrily at the hot blades. 

Soon, he had his dao around the guard’s neck, and the fire ceased, the village completely unscathed. “Who are you?” the guard let out as he backed away in fear. Zuko took a moment to consider his options. He had been going by Lee for a reason, but the fear factor…

“I am Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation, son to Ursa and heir to the throne,” he declared boldly, but someone in the town interrupted. “Liar! He’s not the heir to anything! His own father burned and disowned him!” Zuko rolled his eyes at the comment, but still took the knife he had given Lee back as the guard fled. 

Sighing, he walked over to where Lee stood, now freed, but his mother stepped in front, as a mother should when she sensed danger for her son. Zuko loosened his body as he realized his mother never protected him like that, jealousy clouded his broken heart.

He got on his knee and presented the knife, but Lee only scoffed. “No! I hate you!” he cried, nearly spitting in his face. Zuko flinched as the boy walked away, but eventually stood, very slowly, and shambled over to his stolen ostrich-horse, defeat and shame swallowing him whole.

He swung a leg over and rode off into the day, a feeling of hunger and failure lingering as his cheekbones jutted out from his face. Although before he had thought he would never get used to this, his hunger and discomfort soon became a constant. His only constant, now that Uncle was gone. Strangely, he felt relieved knowing what would happen next, even if it was horrible.

His stomach growled as his ostrich-horse suddenly stopped and collapsed, tired out. He shakily moved his arms to stand, to ride away from the middle of nowhere he had found himself in, but he didn’t have the strength to. He was weak, tired, and hungry, and he doubted begging would do much anymore, especially considering he was in the middle of nowhere. He didn’t exactly have a pretty face, either.

He suddenly keeled and fell over, face pale, directly into the ostrich-horse’s fur where it slept. Tiredly, his heavy eyelids closed as he gave into rest, the only thing that was comfortable anymore, even on the sandy ground. 


End file.
